


Unlimited Minutes

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-06
Updated: 2004-10-06
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:11:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12799599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: It's all about having a little fun, plain and simple.  Clark tries out phone sex at Lex's expense





	Unlimited Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Lex wasn't the least surprised to find his father and Martha Kent in his office making use of the sitting area. It seemed to him that his father was always underfoot these days. Martha greeted him rather cheerfully as he entered and Lionel turned toward the door, managing to look past Lex to a spot he was already beyond.

 

"Martha and I are waiting for the pilot to bring in the helo and then we'll be in Metropolis for the day," Lionel drawled as if reading his mind, looking past Lex to a spot near the door.

 

"Please, Dad, take your time. After all, what's mine was once yours," Lex replied making Lionel start as he realized he had misjudged Lex's position.

 

Lionel didn't like misjudging anyone.

 

Lex's cell rang shrilly from the desk where he'd tossed it earlier, preempting any further discourse between himself and his father. He had it by the third ring, grateful for the distraction. Picking up the small phone he smiled at the number displayed on the screen. His eyes darted guiltily over to the chairs currently playing host to his father and Martha. They were going over books with Martha making occasional notes as Lionel directed. Both seemed more than oblivious to his electronic summons although he was sure that wasn't entirely true of his father.

 

"Hello." The syllables were low and equal, coloured warm by recognition.

 

"Hi, Lex." Through the state of the art connection Lex could tell that even Clark's eternal enthusiasm was quickened - as if -

 

"Where are you?" he asked evenly; for all his mien he could have been questioning gas prices or if a bad weather front was moving in.

 

"At school, in the Torch office. Where are you?"

 

Lex could hear the grin right through the line.

 

"In the office." Lex watched his father lift his head, the conversation having now drawn his attention for whatever reason. Lex kept his voice carefully detached, bordering on dismissive. "Paperwork never waits." He pulled a folder from a never dwindling pile for emphasis, a preemptive little scene staged solely for Martha's benefit so that she might attest to Lex's vocational dexterity should Lionel question her later. He retrieved a meticulously packaged report from the folder and spoke into the phone. "I assume you have something to tell me."

 

"Yeah, as a matter-of-fact; you're not gonna believe what I found on the Internet." Clark's voice tightened as he spoke.

 

"I'm sure I have no idea but the possibilities are endless." Lex frowned, the expression drawing his brows together as he analyzed the sounds coming from the other end of the line. "What exactly are you doing?"

 

"Jacking off."

 

It should have taken him completely by surprise. It was certainly one of the last things he'd expected to hear. The simplicity of the statement - not to mention the exquisitely detailed visual it prompted - threatened Lex's composure. To his credit, he never blinked.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

He'd aimed for that unflappable tone he practiced for that rare occasion such as natural disasters or bankruptcy or invasion by a non-Terran species looking for dinner. From the look on Mrs. Kent's face, he hadn't quite made it.

 

"Did you know there are websites just loaded with stuff about you?"

 

Clark's voice registered along with the certain knowledge that this phone call would be his undoing.

 

"Yes, I was aware - " another furtive glance at Martha - screw his father! - assured him that she was ignorantly uninterested in his conversation with her masturbating, teenaged son.

 

"You have a fanclub, did you know that?"

 

Clark's innocent advertisement was obscene made with his cock in his hand and Lex sitting less than twenty-five feet away from the his mother.

 

"I - "

 

"They have a whole section of stuff about you, stories about you - "

 

"Do tell - "

 

"Mostly sex stories, kinda like Penthouse Forum. Some of them are really hot."

 

Lex smiled, flattered and more than a little curious. He was also turned on knowing Clark was reading them. He shifted in his chair as quietly as the expensive leather and his hardening cock allowed.

 

Clark's voice continued pleasantly in his ear. "There's even one about your dad."

 

A Roman fountain of ice-water wouldn't have had as complete an effect. His mood and his hard-on deflated together. "I can't say that I'm familiar with it, no,' Lex replied drily, wondering if the dialogue would sound as disturbing to the other occupants of the room as it did to him. "May I ask - "

 

"Yeah - I'm still jacking off," Clark supplied.

 

"I suspected as much. Please tell me that - "

 

No, I'm not reading the one about your dad."

 

Lex couldn't have hidden his relief from anyone within ten counties. He smiled and cleared his throat, trapped as Martha looked up and nailed him with a politely concerned expression.

 

She smiled at him with a damning `hope everything's okay' face.

 

"Do you anticipate this going on for any length of time?" Lex found a totally engrossing decimal point to study on the report in front of him. Anything was better than Mrs. Kent's kindly worried eyes.

 

"Yeah - it's gonna take a while."

 

"And why would that be?"

 

"Because I'm going slow."

 

Blood returned to pool in Lex's cock; the organ thickened and jerked it's approval.

 

"And I'm sure there's a reason for this," Lex deferred, building the image of six-plus feet of golden Kansas farm-boy sprawled incongruously in a hard plastic school chair; long, sturdy fingers wrapped around his own thick cock, uncut and deeply purpled with blood. Keeping his features perfectly neutral, Lex made a mental note to donate to the local school board at tax-time.

 

"Well, the one I'm reading now is seriously hot," Clark purred.

 

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that," he

encouraged.

"Okay - you're at Excelsior Prep and you decide to stay for summer session. Then there's a substitute fencing coach who is totally hot - "

 

"I'll need more to go on than that," Lex interrupted smoothly, shifting again to give himself a bit more room.

 

"What -?"

 

"You'll need to describe the situation to me completely in order for me to assess the potential here," the Luthor heir clarified.

 

"Hmmph," Clark practically snorted through the phone. "Why don't you just log on and we'll read it together?"

 

"I'm afraid that's impossible right now. I'm don't have my laptop here and I'm pretty much chained to my desk for the immediate future."

 

"You mean you can't stand up and walk right now." It wasn't a question.

 

"That would prove difficult."

 

"You know, Lex, this could be really fun."

 

"And what exactly would that be?"

 

"Phone sex. Are you jacking yourself off right now?"

 

"Not at the moment, no."

 

"Why not?"

 

"I'd risk exposing myself to rather in depth scrutiny."

 

"Is there someone in your office with you?" Clark guessed gleefully.

 

"Indeed."

 

"And you don't want `em to know you have a boner?"

 

"It wouldn't be my first choice, no."

 

"I'm really enjoying this."

 

"I can tell. Seeing as this works so well for you, perhaps we should utilize it more often. It could prove to be a rather efficient tool for use during the business day."

 

"You mean like when I'm at school and I'm thinking about you and I get so hard it hurts?"

 

"Precisely."

 

"Good thing you got that `unlimited minutes' option!"

 

Lex restrained the urge to grind his cock into the desk in an effort to get some relief. "Back to the matters at hand......." His emphasis on the last word was unmistakable.

 

Luthors always were gluttons for punishment.

 

"Okay - let me scroll back for the coach's description...." There was silence on the other end of the line while Clark searched through the pages of electronic text. "Okay, got it: **The fencer worked the length of the padded mat, his movements powerful and graceful. He carefully went through a series of warm-up stances while Lex watched. Finally noticing his audience, the instructor made his way over to doorway. Stopping a polite distance from young Luther, he offered a poised salute before crossing the space remaining between them. He was well over six feet tall and up close he towered over the younger Luthor, an imposing figure dressed crisply from head to toe in traditional Whites.** Hey - what are Whites?"

 

"The standard uniform for fencing," Lex answered, keeping his voice low. As he pretended to study another set of papers, he could only imagine what his father and Martha were thinking about his bizarre exchange.

 

"Oh - what's a plastron?"

 

Lex cleared his throat and winced inwardly when Martha looked up.

 

"Back to the subject, please."

 

"Oh, right - let's see, **He peeled away the epee mask and with it his anonymity. His skin was the colour of caramel, the dark caramels that Lex had always picked out of the bag and left for the maids or the gardener. The instructor's hair fell to his waist in neatly twisted dreadlocks, lending him an exotic aura. Offering a gloved hand he spoke in a low voice that sounded like the dirtiest little secret Lex had ever heard. `Alexander Luthor, right? I was told you'd be staying the summer. I hear you're an exceptional fencer.'

 

Lex studied the padded glove intently, thinking how erotic the scuffs on the leather palm were, the strength they implied. There was something almost terrifying about the tall man dressed in white with gloves and face piece and boots; terrifying and arousing.**

 

"Not exactly Shakespeare, is it? But it does convey the intent competently, don't you think?" Lex questioned when Clark quit talking to draw in a long breath.

 

"More like Walt Whitman."

 

"A very apropos analogy."

 

"Are you hard, Lex?"

 

"Exceptionally."

 

Mrs. Kent chose that moment to approach him so considerately quiet that Lex was hard pressed not to laugh. Or scream.

 

And hard was the appropriate word. Deliciously, rapaciously hard. He wondered if she would notice if he angled the chair under his desk in order to scrape himself against the drawer.

 

She placed a group of papers on his desk pad and quickly backed away - mouthing an apology. Not for the first time, Lex considered what an interesting mouth she had. Interesting and pliable -

 

Not unlike her son's.

 

"Who was that?" Clark asked perceptively.

 

"The secretary," Lex covered quickly - not opting for his father's more politically correct and descriptive term of executive assistant.

 

"Is she still there?"

 

"Yes, she is."

 

"What does she look like?" Clark asked, his voice all malicious enticement and invitation.

 

Lex only barely managed to avoid choking while looking as indifferent as ever. Recovering from the image of Clark leering after his own mother. He grinned, looking not unlike a certain Cheshire Cat. "Very attractive," he confirmed, looking directly into Martha's eyes.

 

Mrs. Kent blushed and dipped her head shyly. `So that's where Clark gets it from,' Lex mused.

 

Clark made a noise somewhere between a moan and gasp into the phone. "Does she look like me?"

 

Lex blinked slowly while contemplating the idea for a moment, tilting his head to study Martha's features. Mulling the concept over he replied, "Not really, no."

 

Which is not surprising given that she's your adopted mother, he continued the thought. When Clark fell silent on the other end, Lex was afraid he'd gone too far and given it away.

 

"Good," Clark finally rejoined.

 

"Really? Why?"

 

"Then you can't bend her across your desk and pretend it's me," he explained.

 

Lex considered that for a moment. "Of course I could; the question is would I."

 

"Would you?"

 

"I find myself quite satisfied with our current arrangement."

 

"Good," Clark repeated in a fiercely possessive low tone.

 

His growl shot straight to Lex's cock, which jumped eagerly in response. Not being able to touch himself was the most exquisite torture. He wondered if he could possible be out of produce and need to have an order delivered immediately. Surely Martha could call her son and have him bring out an order ASAP. Yes, could she have him drop by immediately. But as it was he was going to have to hire more people or throw more dinner parties in order to justify the amount of food he already had delivered from the Kent farms. Of course there were the moral implications of having a teenager's mother send him over for what Lex had in mind but it wasn't like this delivery would be any different from all the others he'd ordered.

 

Deliveries which in fact had very little to do with organically grown carrots. Well, except that one time. But in truth he'd found several other food products that Clark particularly enjoyed: chocolate, honey, an amazing appetite for fresh apple cobbler.

 

Lex shivered and willed the goosebumps rippling his skin away. He watched Martha retreat to the chair next to his father, wondering if she had any idea where her son was and what he was doing right now. Or where he would be and what he would be doing later.

 

And who would be doing it to him.

 

"Are you still there?" Clark's voice broke into his deliberations.

 

"Of course; it would be rather premature for me to hang up now, don't you think?"

 

"Is the secretary still there?"

 

"Yes," Lex answered wisely. He definitely needed the excuse not to actively participate in this conversation. Short, punctuating whuffs of air came from Clark's end of the phone line as his voice was grew tighter.

 

Rather like Lex's pants.

 

He could only imagine what Clark was doing right now. But then, he didn't have to *only* imagine.

 

"So where are we at now?" he prodded.

 

"You're blowing your fencing coach. This shit is SO fucking hot!"

 

"And closer to home?"

 

"I am so close!"

 

"Details, please; how am I to know what I'm getting if you don't provide me with the details?"

 

"You know exactly what you're getting - it isn't like you haven't had it before."

 

"Refresh my memory," Lex insisted.

 

"Me; my cock deep in your ass, me sucking you off, you coming down my throat," Clark painted the images for him.

 

"You know, you have an eloquence with words I was heretofore unaware of. So, I assume you'll be able to handle things there by yourself?"

 

Clark's sharp exhale hissed through his teeth as he came, breathing heavily into the phone.

 

"Good; now that things on your end have been taken care of I believe, if I'm not mistaken, that there are several items that will require my personal attention, are there not?"

 

Clark concentrated on returning his pulse to normal.

 

"Why don't you decide which ones are most urgent and bring them by the mansion later this afternoon? Say in an hour." Lex directed.

 

"Will everyone else be gone then?"

 

"All the pertinent ones, yes."

 

"See you in an hour!"

 

Lex hung up the phone reluctantly and tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him. He was eternally glad that Martha Kent couldn't read his mind at that moment. The image of Clark jacking himself off while reading homoerotica based on him was vivid and delicious.

 

Lionel got up and made his way over to his son's desk, the ornate cane tapping out an annoying staccato on the stone floor.

 

"We're off to Metropolis, Lex. Care to join us?" his father invited.

 

"Leaving already? I didn't hear the helicopter."

 

"Oh, but I did," Lionel assured him with a smile.

 

"Well, as tempting as the invitation is, I think I'll pass. I have a meeting later."

 

"Oh, come with us, son; we can all have dinner in a decent restaurant for a change."

 

"As appealing as an entire day in your company sounds, I'm afraid I'll have to take a raincheck," he demurred.

 

"Ah, yes; your meeting."

 

"Exactly."

 

"An employee?" Lionel asked; the question would have been innocent coming from anyone else.

 

"An associate," Lex answered dismissively.

 

"I've noticed you conduct your business dealings rather informally; it's not at all the way I would handle things, son."

 

"I actually enjoy thinking that my habits fall far from your familial branches," Lex fairly smirked. "A large part of my success is not following the same business acumen as you do, *Dad*."

 

"Neither have you the same hiring standards as I do," Lionel returned.

 

"Meaning?" Lex was immediately defensive, hating the verbal fencing and how his father baited him so easily.

 

"You employ them a lot younger than I ever did." Lionel left his cryptic analysis hanging and made his way across the width of the room. "Come, Martha! The helicopter is here. Metropolis isn't getting any closer!"

 

Lex could make out the staccato thump of rotor blades coming closer as his father tapped a path to the large doors. Martha stood and gathered her things before hurrying after Lionel.

 

"Enjoy yourself this afternoon," she paused at the door. "Oh, and Lex?"

 

"Yes, Mrs Kent?".

 

"If you see Clark, could you tell him his father is in Grandville for the day and I won't be back until late? And tell him I made him an apple cobbler."

 

"Of course," he agreed.

 

"Lex?" she called through the crack in the door just before she closed it.

 

"Yes?"

 

"I left it on your kitchen counter."

 

 

fini


End file.
